


Great at Babies

by Odyle



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Age Regression/De-Aging, Crack, Gen, Trope Bingo Round 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 17:23:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odyle/pseuds/Odyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint is great at things other than boats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Great at Babies

**3:00 pm**

“Clint, you can’t call the dog and the baby ‘Lucky.’”

“I know, that’s why the baby is Lucky, Jr.”

Kate threw her hands up and stalked to the fridge. She hadn’t believed him when he’d called her earlier in the afternoon.

“Have you fed it?” 

Lucky, Jr. smiled at Clint from his lap, a rivulet of baby slobber rolling down his cheek from toothless gums. Wet spots were forming on Clint’s jeans. He’d given up on keeping anything clean hours back. Of all of the things that came out of a baby, drool was way down the list in grossness as he had learned in the past few hours.

“Not it, Lucky Jr.”

“Clint, have you fed Lucky, Jr?” 

“See? Lucky, Jr. is a fine name,” Clint cooed to the baby, who smiled and wiggled in response. 

“This isn’t like having a dog, Clint. You can’t just pick up a baby. First, I’m pretty sure it is illegal. You’ve got to give the baby back.”

“Sure,” Clint said. “But to who?” 

 

**7:00 pm**

Kate returned from the basement with a playpen. Simone had had it down in the basement with a bunch of other things from when the mini-Simones were babies. They wiped it out while Lucky watched Lucky, Jr on the couch. 

“So how did you get a baby?” 

“It was just sort of there.” 

“Just sort of where?”  
“In front of my door. Someone pushed the buzzer. When I opened the door, there was a baby.”

Said baby was sprawled on a blanket nearby. Lucky laid down next to the baby, just within reach so that the baby could grab at him. It seemed that Lucky, Jr. aspired to pet, but hadn’t learned how to just yet. Instead of touching Lucky, he grabbed at him, pulling at handfuls of fur. The dog didn’t seem to mind.

“So, someone ding dong ditched you... And left a baby without a note or anything. You couldn’t catch them?” 

“Well, it took me a while to get to the door.” 

“Why did it take so long?”

“I didn’t have pants on. In my defense, I didn’t know that they were leaving a baby.” 

Kate sighed and sat back on her heels. 

 

**9:30 pm**

Clint walked back and forth in front of the beer case, trying to decide what would go best with stale Cheerios. Lucky, Jr. seemed to have gotten bored with wailing and settled down to take a nap in the sling. He settled on something with a German name and carried it up to the front counter. 

The little old lady who ran the bodega was in her usual spot watching soccer on the little tv. He set the six pack down on the counter and took his time fishing his wallet out of his pocket. Clint liked to think that he and the bodega lady had come to an understanding. He let her watch her soccer until it went to commercial or some player got carried off the field, and she would eventually sell him beer. It had taken some time and Kate’s help, but they had come around to a working arrangement. 

The little old lady did a doubletake when she finally acknowledged Clint. 

“Yours?” she asked, leaning forward to peek at the sleeping baby. Her bony old lady fingers brushed across the soft fluff of baby hair, ruffling it. It made him uncomfortable to let her so close to the baby, but the baby hadn’t woken up so, he didn’t pull away.

“Sure.”

The old lady mimed long hair and sunglasses, then pointed to Clint, then again to the baby. 

“Sure, why not?” 

The old woman muttered something in her language and leaned forward to pinch Clint on the arm. Whatever she had said did not sound complimentary. 

“Can I have my beer now?”

 

**11:00 pm**

Kate paced back and forth, comforting Lucky, Jr. while keeping an eye on the evening’s late news. They couldn’t get him to sleep for long, so they took turns carrying him around the apartment, humming to him. Kate insisted that Enter the Sandman was not an appropriate lullaby, while Clint objected just as strongly to Mrs. Robinson. (“It was the only thing I could think of!”)

“You should call the police,” she said. 

“They’ve got more important things to worry about,” Clint said. 

“Missing babies aren’t important?” 

There was a knock at the door. Lucky, Jr. grumbled against Kate’s chest, squirming at the loud noise. She went to the door and opened it to reveal Steve. He was dressed in civvies, but slightly winded, as if he was in a hurry. 

“How is he?” he asked, reaching for the baby. 

“Who?” asked Clint from the couch. 

“Tony,” Steve said, cradling the baby. Lucky, Jr., for his part, quickly settled in Captain America’s arms. 

“He’s fine. We had a great time,” Kate said, cutting a look at Clint. 

“Thank you for taking care of him. It all happened in a rush...” 

“I understand how it can be,” Kate said. She picked up the carrier Simone had let them borrow and offered it to Steve. “If you need help, just let us know.”

“I’m great at babies,” Clint offered. 

Clint sipped his beer and fed Lucky bits of pizza crust while Kate and Steve talked over Lucky, Jr. The late news was just going off when Steve said his goodbyes and took the baby home. 

“He named the baby after Tony. That’s totally weird.” 

Kate dropped onto the couch beside Clint. She moved the empty pizza box onto the floor and hung her feet over the edge. 

“The baby _was_ Tony, dummy.” 

“No it wasn’t.” 

“Yes, it was.” 

“You’re kidding me, right?” 

“Nope,” Kate said. She tilted her head back to look at Clint upside down. “That baby was totally Tony.” 

“...Shit.”


End file.
